Starcraft: Destiny's Slumber
by Liaomiao
Summary: A secret long passed shall dictate a battle yet to come. What mysteries does a young Dark Templar unravel in the midst of his Shadow Walk trial? Original characters and plot. No canon knowledge is needed to enjoy this epic Sci-fi/Mystery/Fantasy tale.


_**Starcraft: Destiny**_

_**Book One: Destiny's Slumber**_

_A secret centuries old dictates a battle yet to come. _

**Prologue: Fall of Providence****一心一天堂****, ****一念一地狱**

The Sanctuary still rumbled as if shuddering in agony from the atrocities that just took place, or perhaps in fear of what was about to take place. Three maimed human forms were twisted into impossible shapes, their lifeless bodies sprawled across the ornate granite floor. Glowing blue orbs of pure psionic energy, enough to humble most Protoss, flowed freely from their deceased hosts, struggling against the surrounding darkness, offering the only source of light. Four remaining figures donned in the same synthetic polymer skinsuits of inky black as their dead peers stood silently, fanned in a careful formation to cover every possible direction of impending attack, seemingly unperturbed by the quick deaths of their comrades. Coils of thin golden lining corresponding to the human circulatory system shined ever so faintly against the black of their skin tight suits signalling psionic power waiting to burst at their command.

Few knew of the Sanctuary which was strategically constructed four miles directly under the second largest nuclear silo on Earth allowing constant electromagnetic pulse waves, weak as they may be, to prevent any advance technology from invading the underground establishment. Although this meant the Guardians themselves were likewise devoid of modern technology, their secrecy and psionic powers have rendered the place impenetrable for over two centuries. Yet this day, the remaining four Guardians knew that their flawless reputation will be tested to its limits.

'So you have returned.'

The High Guardian broke the eerie silence; his aged voice carried no signs of fear, surprise nor anger. Thick white hair signalled that he was past his prime, his features were plain and unassuming, but his eyes carried the wisdom of one that has seen more than his fair share of the galaxy in his time. Like his three younger companions, his body was muscular but not over-burdensome, perfectly proportioned to show that there's some fight yet in these old bones. _One would suffice_.

No answer followed immediately, and the place fell once again into silence. Although fainter now, the orbs of light still floated aimlessly further and further across the large room, until abruptly, one of them stopped as if in fear, revealing the faint silhouette of a dark shrouded figure near the entrance. At that very moment, the Guardians instinctively adjusted their stances to face the position of the now exposed enemy. The psionic ball of light must have been right in front of the figure's face, yet it was unable to penetrate the mysterious shroud surrounding the Intruder save for the tiniest of sparks reflecting from the eyes.

'No one else needs to die today,' the intruder proclaimed emotionlessly. '_No one_ needed to die today' he sighed, averting his gaze from the three corpses. He drew himself up again, 'There can be no victory for you; none of you can even sense my presence. I will take her one way or…'

Attempting to catch him off guard one of the younger Guardians advanced without letting him finish. His tall figure did not bother cloaking for his enemy needn't sight to locate his position, instead all psi energy were channelled into the muscles in his legs. For a moment his suit tightened; the glow of the golden lining increased profusely. And then, he burst forward with the explosive power of his legs in a blinding flash of golden lightning. The air around him rushed to fill the vacuum his presence had just left behind with a crisp audible pop. By the time the granite floor shattered under the pressure of him propelling towards his opponent, he was already twenty feet away.

Never been proficient in the discipline of clearing the mind, the lofty Guardian opted to alternate his thoughts in rapid succession before the telepathy power of his opponent to confuse him. Flashing hundreds of possible avenues of attack through his head with such vigor that it was impossible for the Intruder to anticipate his next strike. _He himself_ would not know until the moment of impact. Likewise he did not bother reading the mind of his foe; the intruder would definitely be prepared against such a breach. Instead he focused all his psi powers into fortifying his body, merging his physical being and mental energies into perfect harmony. He could feel the psi power flowing through his muscles augmenting his strength and speed still. The golden lines gave a final bright pulse against his inky black suit.

As the towering Guardian closed in on the dark shrouded figure he let his instincts guide him. He raised and extended his fist towards his prey's neck in one trained fluid motion, vicious yet graceful. The onslaught carried such speed he could feel his clenched fist burn from the very friction of ripping through the air. Not even outside the psi dampening effects of EMP interference had he ever performed the move so well and yet…

And yet it was not enough.

'No' cried the High Guardian, but his warning came too late.

What should have been just the first blow in an advance combination of precise attacks ended more abruptly then it came. In a hollow clap of thunder, the fearsome punch landed squarely on an outstretched hand of his opponent which appeared so frighteningly quick it was as if the attack was aimed at it all along. To his shock, the Guardian felt all the momentum and force that would have torn through neosteel as paper come to a sudden and complete halt. The familiar sickening crunch lacked the usual satisfaction when it was accompanied by a sharp pain: it was not the sound of a broken neck, but the shattering bones of his own fist. Yet his misery had barely begun. The Guardian immediately felt what could only be described as some sort of sound wave emanate from the grip that parried his blow. The reverberations from the impact which had already shattered his fist quickly began to travel to his wrist, then his forearm and finally his whole body, increasing in intensity as it went in a fatal chain reaction. Splinters of bone ripped out through his flesh like shrapnel, falling beside his immobile figure. Strangely the pain felt distant, as if observed rather than experienced. The Guardian knew his life was coming to an end. Lacking the strength for even a feeble defense, he allowed his consciousness to fade and embraced his ultimate fate. Pulsating orbs of psi energy floated out of him, lighting the room once more.

The entire exchange was over in a fraction of a heartbeat. Like three before him, the Guardian's large body hit the ground lifelessly before the final echoes of his strike left the room.

The Intruder stood motionless for a moment. He appeared to reap no satisfaction in the death of his opponent. Then he began to speak in the same soft emotionless tone 'Why? For over two hundred years we have been outcasts from the rest of humanity, they seek to hunt us down and annihilate our kind. Do we fight back against our weak, wicked enemy? No. We give our lives so our enemies may live, forfeit our freedom and condemn our souls to a meaningless existence so the rest of humankind do not need to suffer for their sins. They strive and prosper at the expense of our efforts, yet those very ones we sacrifice everything to protect seek to eradicate us. Nevertheless our loyalty to them is unwavering and for this I humbly ask, why? '

The shrouded figure started forward slowly causing the three Guardians to retreat at the same measured pace. 'What drives you to continue to aid those that despise us and hunt us? Why would each and every one of you rather stand your ground against me and fall one by one? Knowing perfectly well you cannot triumph over me. Yet you would prefer to make a foe of an old friend whom wishes you no harm than abandon those that consider you the enemy.'

The High Guardian's initial expression of sorrow turned to disappointment at the Intruder's words. 'I hope, for your sake deserter, that one day you'll see past your own sufferings, however great they may be.'

'I deserted nothing but the blindness you stand for!' the Intruder hissed back. 'Tell me old man, where is the honor in defending the wicked whom want nothing more than our obliteration? Your blatant insolence astounds me. Or do you find some sickening hollow comfort in adhering to a meaningless principle of loyalty? Have you fooled yourself into thinking that perhaps your acts are merciful and virtuous in any way? That wasting the lives of our people is some sort of twisted act of heroism or chivalry? I will no longer polish the sword that seeks to pierce my heart.'

'As Guardians of the First we dedicate ourselves to protect what we believe is the key to the preservation of humanity. We are misunderstood by the rest of humanity and they fear us, but they are not our true enemy. We are, after all, all human.' The High Guardian resorted. 'Therefore, we cherish the living, but do not mourn for the dead. Each and every one of us, live and die defending what we must. Although you are correct about one thing.'

The old man paused and stared intently at the shrouded figure before him before continuing. 'I concede that I was blind, for this day, this moment, it is not by the hands of the Outsiders that our blood be spilled and our bones be crushed, but by the hands of my once proudest student. We may all die by your doing defending our oath, and if so, our souls will rest at ease. But the question is betrayer, will yours?

The intruder fell silent, his features remained shrouded in dark swirling pools of liquid smoke rendering them unreadable. His eyes glistened in the faint light. After a long pause he whispered once more: 'Please step aside and surrender her. No further harm shall come upon you.'

He edge forward further as he spoke and the Guardians retreated once more. Suddenly, he paused to take in the sight before him. A large decagonal sapphire like crystal of exquisite beauty slowly loomed into view behind his three remaining opponents. Majestic crystalline laced the object which hung in the air, supported by two metallic pillars protruding from the roof of the Sanctuary. As he had done countless times before, he could not resist but marvel at the sight. He let his eyes trace along the pattern: cryptic runic engravings covering the surface of the object, yet the intruder knew that if one were to brush their fingers across its surface, only the smoothest sensation would greet their touch. _Perhaps the engravings of The Orb were done from within._

The deep blue crystal emitted no light of its own. Ever since setting eyes on it when he was but a boy, the Intruder had always sense a presence within the object, a source of…life, offering his mind a rare sense of serenity. Over his childhood years spent training in these very Sanctuary this initially faint feeling gradually increased in intensity, until one day he found he could sense an outline, fainter then the faintest of shadows, of a feminine figure within The Orb. If any of the Guardians or other Exiles saw or felt the same, they had never spoken of it to him, and he had never asked. Now that he laid eyes onto the monument before him again after a 17 year hiatus, the silhouette of the female figure trapped in stasis was more apparent than ever. Whether this was due to his own powers having increased since then or something to do with the object itself, he could not be sure._ So we meet again._

_Primera Terrania. The First._

The Guardians knew they could retreat no longer. It was time to make a last stand. Realizing very well that melee attacks were not her strength, a pair of ornate pistols appeared in the hands of one of the remaining Guardians in a flash, materializing as if she had willed them there. Ancient markings decorated the slide of the weapons, while a small red stone located on the frame above the trigger pulsated in tandem with the golden lining on her suit. The pistols were psionic powered.

A strafe of psi propelled bullets was fired at such speeds that only one crisp shot could be heard. The Guardian marksmen knew that the next part was the most difficult. With intense concentration, she forced her mind to reach out to all seven projectiles while they were in transit, tipping the rear of all seven bullets ever so slightly to alter their respective trajectories. This advance maneuver was somewhat beyond her current abilities and her mind felt like it was torn into seven separate pieces. For the briefest of moments her senses numbed from the pressure, but then the world around her flashed back into her consciousness.

As intended, only one of the bullets zoomed towards the target. The rest scattered toward the six most likely positions a trained psionic user would instinctively reposition themselves when attempting to evade the first. Although the projectiles zipped through diverging pathways at varying speeds, they would all reach their intended destination simultaneously. The difficult projectile form was executed to near perfection.

Yet the attacker could not begin to comprehend what followed next. As the rounds approached the enemy, closer and closer still, they suddenly came to a screeching halt in mid air. For a moment all seven bullets hung suspended, barely an inch from their target, as if blocked by an invisible wall. The Guardian could _feel_ each psi propelled bullet still travelling, ripping through the air leaving seven swirling arcs of vacuum behind without the tiniest force of resistance hindering their approach. But her eyes told her that the bullets did not gain another fraction on the Intruder, it was as if the inch of space between them and the intruder stretched on for miles without end.

'Spatial Displacement.' The High Guardian's brows creased at the sight. 'Being able to bend the very fabric of space to such magnitude at such effortlessness, you must be at the Brink of Ascension.' As his words finished the rounds had already ran out of propulsion and fell harmlessly to the ground. The female Guardian dropped to one knee and started panting deeply; the glow from the golden lining of her suit was now barely visible.

The Intruder shook his head slowly in dismay. 'Not quite, I have a way to go yet.' There was no arrogance or pride in his voice; it was merely a statement of fact.

The old man let out an audible sigh. Any chance he gave himself in defeating his once protégé had just been firmly put to rest. His foe had attained a level beyond him, beyond any human of the past and present to his knowledge. He extended his thoughts into the mind of the other remaining Guardian: '_It is no longer in my hands, but all is not lost. As soon as I face him, take Clyra and run: the Unison will prove insufficient against him so further sacrifices are unnecessary. Find the Link and pray that you reach Primeria Terrania before him. Make haste, for I cannot occupy his attention for long.'_

'Leave now. Do not die in vain.' the Intruder directed his warnings towards the remaining Guardians once more.

'Oath breaker, before this day is over, I will demonstrate to you why our sacrifices were not in vain.' The High Guardian's words were a deep deafening boom as he raised his voice for the first time. What only a moment ago was his usual worn and unassuming countenance became a visage of grim determination; a contrast so stark one may question whether it had belong to the same person entirely. The old man pivoted his weight to rest on his bent left knee and placed his right hand gently on the granite floor.

Studying the old man's actions curiously, the intruder stood motionless. Although he had long mastered everything the High Guardian had taught him, it did not surprise him that he did not recognize this stance. After all, it was not unusual for a master to not reveal all they knew. Still, the stance was unfamiliar and he treated it with a rare dose of caution. A minor shift in the lighting around the area heightened his senses. At the smallest hint of potential danger his body instinctively phased to the right without the slightest shift in posture, movement that seemed like teleportation, yet it was barely in time to evade a bright beam of blue light from behind. Suddenly all around him the light flashed, not towards him, but collected at the grounded palms of the High Guardian crouched before him. For an instant the shroud of darkness around him grew fainter, as it took a moment for his heightened sense to confirm his suspicions: the beams of blue light were in actual fact the luminous orbs of psi energy released from the bodies of the Guardians who had previously fallen. Whatever the High Guardian did had caused the psi orbs to zoom towards him with such ferocity that they appeared to be bars of light.

Vibrant pulsating orbs of glowing light collected at the old man's hands, eerily illuminating his stern features. Slowly and steadily he lifted his arms away from the ground and held them outstretched, the glow of the psi orbs grew fainter and fainter still, until they finally disappeared. For a moment the room returned to darkness. Then, a brilliant white light lit up the room as the golden lining of the High Guardian's suit sparked to life, brighter than ever before. A vague blue hue was mixed in the familiar flash of gold and white.

The High Guardian extended his weathered hand, firmly closing his fingers to form a hollow grip around the air. The space between his hollow grip began to shiver as if to break free from his iron grasp, vibrating uncontrollably until tiny cracks of vacuum crackled. This area then extended in length, to roughly four feet beyond his grip, forming a shaft of volatile space. The air shook harder as the cracks of vacuum became fissures along the length of the shaft, until the entire narrow area folded in and collapsed upon itself, creating a blade of vacuum. The High Guardian extended the blade of nothingness towards his opponent, beckoning. 'Let us see how much you have improved in these years.'

The intruder's eyes narrowed behind the veil of swirling darkness. Although he was never taught it, he had heard of it: _Riftblade, a form of the Ninth Circle. He shouldn't be able to…_ And then his surprise became comprehension. _He was somehow able to absorb the psionic powers of his fallen comrades._ The intruder felt something was a little out of place when all the previous Guardians futilely attacked him separately merely to fall one by one. Now the realization dawned upon him. _They had planned to sacrifice themselves all along to further empower the High Guardian. _

Yet something was still amiss. After witnesses his display of Spatial Displacement, the Guardians must have realized that even their combined strength would be insufficient. _What is he planning? Is he merely trying to delay me so the other two can escape? _The intruder dismissed that idea for he had already made it clear that they were free to leave. Something was definitely not right.

He had no time to further dwell on those thoughts, for the High Guardian's Riftblade darted towards him like a snake's tongue. The one blade became a blur of many as a series of the most advance sword forms were executed to perfection. Knowing that the power from the Unison will not last long, the old man's strikes were relentless. Each thrust was quicker than the one before and the air was ripped apart before it even had a chance to be sucked into the void of the Riftblade. _Now Luxor!, Take Clyra and leave!_ The High Guardian sent a booming voice into the mind of the other Guardian. In the corner of his eye he saw the other Guardian pick up the still incapacitated female Guardian marksmen Clyra, and dash out in a flash of gold. _It has been an honor master, _the reply sounded faintly in his mind.

The dark shrouds covering the intruder parted slightly from the onslaught of blades before reforming in time to meet the next wave of attacks. Attempting to dodge the flurry of strikes whistling through the air around him would be no easier than dodging rainfall. But the intruder's figure became a feather in a typhoon, flowing with the wild current of swords surrounding him, moving with the waves of force instead of against them. No matter how fast the blades came, he was always able to float freely through their gaps, in cadence with their tempo, narrowly but surely evading every attack while resisting the gravitation pull of the Riftblade.

'Enough!' a wave of the hand came with the Intruder's words and an invisible force of a mountain came crushing down towards the High Guardian. The granite flooring before the Intruder crumbled and folded in upon itself, layer upon layer of solid stone parted like tides of earth, succumbing under the Intruder's might, the force continuing forward towards its intended target. The blur of multiple blades dissipated quicker than they had appeared as the High Guardian was forced to break his own sword forms to defend against the Intruder's telekinesis attack.

Crouching to lower his centre of gravity, the old man planted his Riftblade into the ground before him, ready to absorb the approaching invisible force now inches before him. A deafening thunderclap marked the moment of impact. For the briefest instant he could feel the void within the Riftblade itself bend against the overwhelming force as he was propelled back. _To think a simple telekinetic strike could carry this amount of force…_The High Guardian gritted his teeth under the pressure and the cool blue hue around the glow of his suit intensified just a shade, enough for him to feel a resurgence of the Unison's psionic power flowing through his system. Gripping the blade with both hands he exerted all his might against the crushing invisible wall before him, slowly, ever so slowly, he felt the blade pass through in an upward arc, surprising even himself: The Rifblade had cut through the telekinetic force, parting it in half.

_That telekinetic wave came with enough force to push a cruiser class battleship out of orbit, yet could barely force the old man to retreat three steps. _The Intruder considered the old man's abilities. _The combined power of five Guardians is impressive indeed._ Like the old man, he drew up his hand, formed a hollow ring in the air, and effortlessly fashioned a blade of volatile space that collapsed in upon itself. 'So that's how it works.' He reflected as he examined the Riftblade he had created for the first time.

The scene that had just unfolded before the High Guardian took him back to a time long past. He recalled raising and tutoring an exceptional young child. For a moment his eyes gave a hint of pride for most his life he believed it was not the child's privilege to learn from him, but his to teach such a prodigy amongst his people. Yet the bodies of his fallen comrades before him ripped him back to the stark reality that this person who was once his greatest prides is this day his greatest foe, and perhaps the greatest threat to humanity.

Their blades clashed.

The Sanctuary itself shook as the surrounding walls collapsed and disintegrated into a heap of dust and debris, forming swirling trails of grey as they were sucked into the vortex created by the Riftblades. Pebbles of rocks and granite near the centre of conflict imploded with an audible pop under the surrounding force. Rippling waves shifted visibly in the space itself as the two figures danced through the forms, letting the deafening clash of blade on blade guide their rhythm.

At first the High Guardian was able to match the intense speed, power and precision of his younger opponent, allowing only the intense concentration on his face betray his otherwise relaxed movement. But as Riftblade clashed with Riftblade, time after time, the blue hue around the High Guardian dimmed, and a trickle of blood escaped from his gritted teeth.

The Intruder did not need to see the blood to know that his opponent's strength was waning. He could feel with every consecutive blow he delivered that the resistance was that much lighter, that much weaker. _His body is way past its limit: his muscles and organs are beginning to rupture._ _Yet he is not even using a trickle of psionic power to heal those wounds, why? _

A mental probe was like running into a brick wall. He stared into the eyes of the old man trying to catch a hint of the High Guardians motives, but all he saw were eyes that were grim and unfamiliar, not those he remembered from the man that walked him through the basic forms over three decades ago whom only displayed wisdom and kindness. His resolve wavered and he subconsciously took the edge off his moves, they became a little slower, a little disorderly, just enough for the High Guardian to keep up.

'Your forms show a hint of hesitation devoid of mercy, a shade of arrogance devoid of confidence. You are troubled, child.' The High Guardian's words had a visible impact on the Intruder for the latter froze in mid form. Seizing his chance the older man proceeded with a blinding flurry of strikes, each carrying enough weight to topple a small building. But this was insufficient and the old man knew it. The Intruder deflected every attack with a precise series of light and controlled parries: A Feather Lifting a Thousand Mountains_._ The old man felt the pressure increase once more as his body waned and shuddered just from the impact of deflecting the incoming attacks. Defeat was imminent.

Without warning, the High Guardian ignored all the income attacks and threw his weapon which spiraled towards his enemy with a blast of telekinesis, which was easily evaded. Without a weapon to defend, nothing could prevent the Intruders Rift Blade as it found its mark and buried itself into the High Guardian's chest. The Intruder froze a moment, momentarily stunned as he tried to deduce what would cause his opponent to attempt such an inexplicable feat. The High Guardian did not wait long to satisfy his curiosity.

He brought both his fists together with every ounce of strength left in him against the sides of the Rift Blades still embedded in his chest. The resulting impact was like silent thunder. A ripple of pure force threatened to tear the very fabric of space itself as he felt his own knuckles being crushed into nothingness against the blade. And then he felt it. Virtually undetectable at first, yet there was no mistaking it: right at the centre of impact the tiniest of cracks formed in the Rift Blade. The vortex of the blade was breached by the surrounding matter of the room and it shattered immediately into a thousand shards of uncontrollable fragments. The remnants of the blade burst all around the two fighters forming scattered swirls of volatile maelstroms, sucking everything in one moment and expelling its contents the next.

In the eternity that took for the two combatants to be flung to the opposite ends of the Sanctuary from the initial explosion, the High Guardian felt shrapnel of earth, metal and the air itself pierce his flesh countless times as they were zipped aimlessly amongst the maelstroms across the room. Just as he thought his entire body would be ripped apart a strange sensation enveloped him. Everything suddenly came to a halt…no not quite, but the motion of all the objects about him slowed a thousand-fold, debris and shrapnel floated by as if in slow motion while he remained unaffected.

_Temporal Displacement! _

There was no mistaking it; the Intruder was executing a psionic form of the Full Circle! Something that should not be possible until a psionic user has Breached the First Barrier to Ascension, yet being not even at the Brink, his once disciple had somehow managed the impossible. As his body flew away further he noticed the Intruder extend an outstretched hand and with a sudden clench of his fist, smothered all the remaining swirls of vortexes as water would extinguish fire. For a moment the room returned to deathly stillness once more. It was only by this time that the old man hit the far wall hard and collapsed in a heap of his own mangled flesh and bones.

Abrupty the Sanctuary lit up, great beams of light pierced through the cracks in the walls. A series of groaning and clanking of machinery echoed through the entire underground establishment as the place roared to life. The Orb's radiance glowed profusely while the two metallic pillars of support slipped towards the side in a complex sequence of mechanical movement, revealing a long opening in the roof above the decagonal object to the surface. Without a further moment's pause, the crystalline object that the Guardians spent over two centuries defending was propelled out with such intensity that it literally shrank from view until it disappeared from sight within a heartbeat. The Orb was gone.

To his surprise the old man found the Intruder's immediate concern was not with disappearance of The Orb, but the health of his former mentor. With what appeared to be only a single step the Intruder covered over thirty yards to stand before his incapacitated opponent.

The High Guardian lay in a pool of his own blood, barely able to lift his head with his remaining strength to look at his once apprentice one last time. The black shroud had by now completely dispersed, revealing the Intruders face for the first time. It was almost exactly how he remembered it seventeen years ago. Deep set brown eyes coupled with slender effeminate features that would be rare in even the most beautiful of women, were perfectly proportioned in the visage before him. Long straight black hair flowed elegantly to his waist, neatly collected in a silver clip behind his head. He wore an expression of pain and concern mixed with a flicker of annoyance. The old man could not tell whether his opponent had healed himself or even if any harm had come to him in the first place, but he certainly looked uninjured. _Talented indeed._

'I'm sorry child, but at least for this day, you will not get what you sought. There had been a little secret passed on from each generation of High Guardian to the next: this entire place…' the old man's sentence was interrupted by a violent cough of blood.

'Do not speak.' the Intruder ordered, he reached over and lightly extended his fingers over the High Guardian's chest.

The Intruder then pondered what had caused the room to suddenly come to life and eject The Orb into space. With time to reflect he noticed that his psionic senses felt…sharper. The earlier minor disturbance, like a distant buzzing of a fly, had subsided completely. His eyes widened as comprehension dawned upon him 'The EMP shockwave that defended this place, it did not originate from the nuclear silo above did it?'

The High Guardian smiled weakly. 'Your mental capacities were never limited to your psionic abilities child. You are right. A secret only known to the High Guardian has been passed down from generation to generation. This Sanctuary in which the Orb was kept had always been an underground starport, ready to launch the Orb as soon as the sequence is initiated. The EMP disturbance served not only as a defensive means to prohibit outside technology from breaching this place, but also to perpetually power down the starport. The source of which, as you have already guessed is not from the nuclear silo above as all have been mislead to believe, but a passive ability of the High Guardian himself…'

The Intruder had already guessed as much but still could not help to be impressed by the foresight of his forefathers. In the event that the last line of defense of the Exiles: the High Guardian fell, the Orb would automatically be rocketed into space lights years away to avoid falling into the hands of the assaulters of this place. Yet an unexpected sense of sorrow quickly took over. For the starport to initiate its final defensive mechanism, the EMP disturbance that originated from the High Guardian must have dissipated. This could only happen if the High Guardian's life force has left his body. _The old man is beyond aid._

The High Guardian chuckled for a moment before coughing out a gush of blood, yet his smile remained. 'It seems fate has an unusual way of toying with the lives of us mere mortals. For the day you deserted us seventeen years past was the day I intended to appoint you my successor as the High Guardian of the Tenth Generation. Had you have remained merely moments longer you would have been entrusted with all our knowledge and resources, Primera Terrania would have been yours free for the taking. Alas it seems you were destined to go home empty handed Xari, at least for this day.'

The Intruder flinched, it was not due to the newfound knowledge that a stroke of misfortune had prevented him from acquiring the Orb seventeen years ago, but the pleasant nostalgic memories merely being addressed a simple name he had almost forgotten ignited within him. _It has been so long since someone has called me that._

'Xari has disappointed you, Master, but Xari must do what is right.' Bidding his final farewell, the Intruder bowed deeply to his once mentor.

The old man smiled peacefully as the world around him grew more and more distant. _Xari is lost, but he may redeem himself yet. _The High Guardian never had the strength to speak his last thoughts, but even at death he had not truly given up hope on his favorite student.

***

Xarithus Illidara stood alone motionless in the Sanctuary, staring out vacantly into nothingness, for how long he did not know. Buried in the rubble around him were the five Guardians that fell before him today. Bodies of those whom he had once trusted his life to, whom had taught him all he knew. _They were crushed by these very hands_. Pure rage filled him. With a roar that shook the ground under his feet, he flung himself into the air, crashing through the roof. Four miles of solid earth melted under his power, barely offering any more resistance than thin air as his body forced its way to the surface within mere seconds.

Xarithus landed gracefully on the surface, his handsome features returning to its usual emotionless state under the silver rays of the midnight moonlight, as if he just returned from a casual stroll. _The Sanctuary was constructed over two centuries ago; the Guardians would not risk losing humanity's only salvation. Then she must be sent to the same destination as the initial fleet over two hundred years ago. _Sighing deeply to calm himself one last time, he reached his mind out to contact a number of his subordinates. 'Prepare a ship. We shall embark into the Korpulu Sector.'

Xarithus tilted his head allowing his beautiful features to face the countless stars spread above him in the night sky like sparkling diamonds. Somewhere out there was the Orb: the key to everything. Somewhere out there in a faraway place; in a strange land laid Primera Terrania. Waiting for his arrival. Beckoning.


End file.
